Young Urban
Last night, I rolled up to a party for
V magazine, drank tons of free booze, sashayed past peeps in line, got my pic taken, and was basically fabulously entertained for all of 45 minutes or so - then I peaced out, went to the Soho Grand, then
Movida for a socialite's birthday party, I nixxed going to Misshapes for the afterparty for V (Gwen Stefani was showin up?) to take new-friend Jon to Brooklyn and meet up with Albuquerqueans.
I just said no to Gwen Stefani to hang out with my mostest, but I still got kicked around psychologically and emotionally. Perhaps next time, next life, I choose Gwen. I stay with Tribeca-loft Brits, remain callous and unfeeling, slip into a different pair of $500 shoes every day, pick up New York by my veneerless teeth and snap its neck.
Perhaps.
2005-09-11 | 3:33 p.m.
